Worked for a moving company for 6 weeks of the hottest Calgary summer I can remember (three years ago-ish).
As if its not enough that you have to move peoples shinguardty ikea furniture that breaks when you touch it, movers also get the pleasure of moving the heaviest mahogany or oak furniture.
"Don't touch the walls" they'll remind you. God forbid they offer a glass of water, let alone a can of pop.
The worst move ever, took place one fine 33 degree saturday (my friends all went to Sylvan Lake :angry: ). The customers had two or three long haired cats, and little motivation to clean up after them.
My partner & I picked up the effing hide a bed couch and started manuevering it out the door. He stumbled just a bit, and this caused me to lose my grip. We worked together enough times to know that in this situation, we both kind of lunge toward eachother to help the other guy get his grip (without dropping the furniture).
I'm sweating like a pig, wearing a muscle shirt with a low cut neck, the side of the couch is covered in long, white cat hair.
We got the fataing piece of shinguard into the fataing truck & threw it down. Both of us looked like fataing santa claus with this white cat hair stuck to our necks & chins.
The woman pretended not to notice. Didn't offer a towel, nothing.
I was p*ssed off, so I just went to the bathroom, grabbed her stupid-ass decorative towel thing & wiped my sweaty, hairy body down, & threw the towel on the floor.
She never said a word.
Another little horror story (though it still doesn't compare to the industrial waste), was this move taht involved a sectional couch with built in recliners, a big screen, and an enormous highboy made out of the heaviest wood I've ever lifted.
The reason why this was so bad, was because it was all in the basement, inside a room that was constructed after the items were in the room. The fataing door was too small to get these things out. No. Let me re-phrase, the door was located at the bottom of the stairs, and the presence of a wall-like railing hindered the escape of any piece of furniture from the room.
Ah, fata it. I don't wanna re-live it any more than you want to read it.
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